When It Rains

by Joel Shaw

  “I’ve got my shot gun, and my pistol...that’s all I need.” Faye strapped on her six-shooter and filled her pockets with rounds of buckshot and a few rounds of slugs.

  “So, we’re just going to wing it or what? Anyone have a plan?”

  “What?” Harold said. He just couldn’t focus. His blue balls prevented rational thinking. Suck me, fuck me, blow me baby...he reached out and touched Faye. She slapped him. Slapped the shit out of him as a matter of fact. All the attempts she had made over the years to lure, entice, or coax Harold into bed had been unsuccessful. Harold refused each and every advance because his precious pond thing was more important. SLAP him again.

  Harold reeled from the second blow falling from his chair to the floor. “What was that for?”

  “Because.” Faye huffed. She was starting her own fire. “Because I’m ...excuse my Irish...pissed. Pissed off at you Harold, and quit touching me. God you are acting like a....well...you know what I mean. Keep your damn hands off of me...until...” Her voice warmed, “...I tell you its OK. Which might happen...later.” The sweet smile directed toward Harold could not by misinterpreted.

  “OH.” Harold loved the smile.

  Milton chambered a round in his Colt 45, safety on, tucked in the waist, gangster style. “Well, let’s get shaking before we all fall asleep. I’ll drive the bus.” He wished he had his WWII helmet.

  “You have a bus?” Amber asked, innocently.

  “Naw, baby, the Hummer. Hanson’s Hummer? We can all squeeze in there. It’ll be real coooozy.”

  He was dreaming a warm dream. “You girls can sit up front with me.” His goofy grin caused the “girls” to crack up. Milton was sic in a sick sort of way.

  “All aboard the MiltonMobile.”

  #

  CHAPTER 29

  Milton drove them to the spot where he had abandoned his bike the previous morning. It lay on it’s side in the weeds as though sleeping. They approached the rail yard as he had, across the field under cover of the chest-high weeds and thick brush.

  They lay side by side at the crest of a knoll, observing the distant train. There was some activity between the train and the warehouse but their vantage point prevented them from seeing exactly what it was.

  The fire was about to spread. “We have to get closer,” Sheila whispered.

  “We have to flank them.” Jerry’s commanding tone took everyone by surprise.

  “We should split into two groups. Circle around and approach them from behind the warehouse. We’ll have plenty of cover.”

  “What then?” Sheila insisted. Who was this Jerry guy? Who chose him to lead?

  “Then we can formulate a plan of attack.” Jerry studied the unlikely assembly of mercenaries for a few moments. How would they react when the shooting started? He had no way of knowing. A full frontal assault was out of the question. Surprise was their only chance to gain the upper hand. He issued his orders.

  “Sheila, myself, and Faye will take the right flank. Leland, you take Amber, Harold, Milton take the left. Get as close as you dare, get a head count and see how many of them are armed. We’ll meet back here in one hour. Then we can decide how to proceed.”

  Leland was eyeballing Jerry suspiciously. His friend had changed since the killing in the forest. He was taking this raid seriously. Leland had to check himself. Though they had enjoyed their adventure in the camp last night, they had been lucky. Luck ends. Maybe it was time to get serious.

  “Let’s move out,” Leland said. “Follow me boys and girl.”

  “Right now?” Harold was not keen to go into battle. His body ached. His balls ached. His head ached. Leland had to coax him to his feet.

  “Let’s go Dad. We’re fighting for the future of our home and country.”

  “I don’t have the will or a weapon, son.”

  The latter was an issue that brought progress to a halt; but for an instant. Sheila handed one of her 9MM pistols to Harold. “You know how to use this, pops?”

  Harold held the gun by the barrel. Clearly he was clueless. “No.”

  Sheila scoffed. Just as she imagined, the old men were going to be a problem. Dead wood doesn’t burn.

  “Hold it like this...or you’ll shoot yourself. This is the safety. See it?”

  “Yes, I see it.” Harold was resistant. He had no intention of pulling the trigger.

  “When you’re ready to shoot, flip the safety to the off position...here. Got it?”

  “Yes. I’ve got it.” Harold stuffed the pistol into his jacket pocket hoping never to withdraw it. “I guess I’m ready.”

  “It’s about time. Allright, let’s go.” Leland stood and trotted off. Amber and Milton followed closely. Harold lagged behind.

  #

  Jerry, Sheila and Faye moved quickly through the naked forest, arriving within minutes at the rear of the enormous warehouse. Several open doors were visible.

  Sheila couldn’t refuse the open invitation. “I’m going in. You coming?” An ember escaped the fire.

  “Wait, honey. That’s not what we agreed on,” Faye insisted.

  “I didn’t agree to anything. I’m not wasting any more time,” The fire flashed.

  “We have to waste these assholes now.”

  Jerry didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t surprised, however; Sheila was proving to be tough and independent. She has some skills, he thought. Let her take the lead.

  “After you,” Jerry said gallantly. He motioned her forward. If she blows it, it’s on her.

  Sheila sprinted twenty-yards and disappeared through the door without another word. Jerry and Faye followed, failing to keep pace with her as she darted from cistern to cistern moving in the general direction of the group of Black Swans assembled near the loading dock. She was dangerously close. Too close. Jerry and Faye stayed back, unwilling to take such risks.

  Sheila could plainly overhear the ongoing conversation.

  “...he’s hanging on by a thread, man. He wants some more morphine. I’m not wasting anymore time on him.”

  “We have to, sarge. He has the phone. He owes us money.”

  “He doesn’t have the phone. I checked. And he’ll never pay us. Let the fucker rot. We can sell the bottled water ourselves and we’ll all be millionaires.

  “We can’t just let him lay there. He deserves better,” Zeek protested.

  “You take care of him, Zeek. I’ll leave it up to you whether he lives or dies. The rest of you come with me. We have to get this water loaded.”

  “What about the supplies, Sarge, and the mail? Can’t we break into those first?”

  “No. Leave them on board. We’ll take them with us. Now get busy.”

  Zeek took his cue and separated from the group. Sheila followed...another log for the fire.

  “What should we do?” Faye whispered. She was really out of her element, now.

  “You go back and wait for the others,” Jerry commanded. “I’m going to back up Sheila.” He was gone.

  Faye exited the warehouse and made her way back to the rally point. She was happy to put some distance between herself and the impending showdown. She hunkered down and waited and worried.

  #

  Leland and Amber arrived at the warehouse just in time to see their compatriots at the far end of the warehouse slip through the back door.

  “They’re not following the plan.” Leland whispered.

  “Sheila isn’t much for plans, Leland,” Amber said.

  “You can call me Lee, sis.” A grin spread across his face for an instant. They exchanged knowing expressions. Family time would have to wait.

  “Any ideas?” Leland asked. At that moment, Amber saw Faye exit the warehouse.

  It was too soon. Something must have happened.

  “Let’s go back and talk to Faye.”

  Before they could move, Harold and Milton arrived at the scene, out of breath and energy. “What’s going on?” Milton whispered.

  “Sheila and Jerry are inside, we just saw F
aye head back. We’re going to talk to her. Find out what happened. You coming?”

  “Are you kidding? We just got here. You two go. Harold and I will stay here. Keep an eye on things for you.”

  Harold was nodding in agreement, breathing heavily, sweating profusely.

  “All right, stay here.” Amber touched Harold’s arm. “We can talk later.”

  Harold looked at her with a sadness that she had seen only in her mother’s eyes.

  Amber wanted desperately to talk about her mother. She had barely given her a thought since she left Texas. She sensed that Harold wanted the same.

  Harold sighed, “go ahead,” he said, “we’ll be right here.”

  “Stay out of sight you two.” Leland admonished.

  “No worries, man.” Milton laid back in the weeds and closed his eyes. Harold followed suit, happy to take a time out.

  #

  Sheila watched Zeek climb the flight of stairs to the second floor offices. She waited for him to disappear, then followed. She could hear moans emanating from one of the offices. She crept forward on hands and knees until she was adjacent to the door, listening...

  “You’re in bad shape, Sir. We have to get you some help.”

  “Just give me some more fucking morphine.”

  “We’re all out, sir.”

  “Fuck you,” Hanson growled, “get me something...anything to kill this pain.”

  The voice was unmistakable. Sheila smiled...she was ready to kill his pain...until she felt Vomitus creeping up her esophagus. She froze, then doubled over and puked. She knew she was in trouble. She tried to stand but couldn’t, so violent was her revulsion toward the man whom had raped her unmercifully, one never-ending day after another. She fell to her knees unable to halt the contractions. Dry heaves racked her body, she slumped against the wall, exhausted and spitting bile.

  Zeek appeared immediately. He was astonished to see a uniformed, armed woman puking her guts out. He didn’t know how to react. She looked familiar, too. Something about the hair. He dismissed the thought, they had never met. He would have remembered...wait a goddamn minute...oh holy mother of god...could it be? He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head up, taking a good look at her face. Her eyes. No question, now. His recollections spun like fruit in a slot machine. She was one of the girls Hanson had kidnapped in Texas. Holy shit. What was she doing here? The fruit quit spinning; the payout was less than desirable. She must have tracked them down. He knew why. They had signed their names on her buttocks each time they penetrated her. Her ass looked like a tagger’s billboard by the time they had finished with her. His dick got hard thinking about it.

  “Major, you’ll never guess what I have out here. You remember that red-headed bitch we had so much fun with back in Kansas? The one with the crazy green eyes?”

  “Yeah, so what?....What?....Zeek, get your ass in here.”

  Hanson waited...no reply.

  Zeek was screaming silently, an arrow had pierced his trachea then severed his spinal chord. He fell like a sandbag.

  Jerry ran to Sheila. “You OK?” He whispered.

  “Yes,” she said, still hacking and spitting, “Help me up.”

  Jerry helped her to her feet. They stood in silence while Sheila wiped her face and attempted to regain her composure. She looked at the arrow protruding from Zeek’s neck.

  “Yours?” She asked realizing for the first time that it was Jerry.

  “Mine,” he said proudly.

  “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure, miss.”

  “I ain’t no fucking miss. My name is Sheila Whittaker.”

  “My pleasure, Sheila Whittaker. My name is Jerry Goodthunder.”

  The Indian, Sheila thought, that figured. He looked young and tender.

  #

  Faye was short of breath and exhausted from the events of the past twenty-four hours. The untimely departure from her daily routine had been more stressful than she could have imagined. It had been years since she had battled the roving gangs whom challenged her fortress almost weekly during the Great Lakes Migration. Years of relative calm had passed since those dangerous days and she was feeling secure enough to bring her children home. Until now. Now, she was alone in a field waiting for who knows what to happen. Whatever it was, she was sure it wasn’t going to be good.

  She closed her eyes to doze and then opened them immediately when she heard Amber’s voice.

  “You too?” Amber said.

  “Me too what?” Faye replied; disturbed by the interruption. She relaxed a little when she saw that Leland accompanied Amber. They appeared to be unscathed.

  “Harold and Milton are probably asleep right now, too.” Amber grinned knowingly. She could see that Faye was not going to be able to keep up with she and Leland.

  “I’m not surprised. They aren’t in any better shape than I. Where are they? I’ll go join them.” She laughed, though she would rather have cried.

  “You look like you could use a rest,” Leland said, kneeling by Faye’s side, “can we use your shotgun? My rifle is no good for close quarters.”

  Another thought occurred to him, “My rifle has a good scope sighted in at two-hundred yards, that’s about the distance to the train. Can you keep an eye on us? We might need some back-up.”

  “I can handle that,” Faye said, taking the rifle.

  “Good,” Leland hefted the shotgun. He was pleased, it was relatively light and easily maneuverable.

  “I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether to pull the trigger or not. Just don’t hit us, OK?” Faye nodded. If he only knew.

  “Where are Sheila and Jerry?” Amber asked.

  Faye shrugged. “Once we got behind the warehouse, Sheila insisted on going inside. Jerry told me to come back here to let you know what’s going on, so here I am, but I don’t know what’s going on.”

  Leland rolled his eyes skyward. Chaos was to be expected from this lot. He wanted to laugh and call it all off but they had no means of communicating with each other. Or did they?Leland had forgotten about the radio he took from the dead guard. Jerry had taken Davis’s radio. Sheila was carrying a similar radio. He shook his head in disbelief. They had survived so long without the aid of powered gadgets, the references had faded from their lexicon. They hadn’t thought of the gadgets as tools but trophies.

  He unclipped the radio from his belt and rotated the volume knob to power it on. Static crackled from the tiny speaker. “Here, Faye, take this radio. It’s on Channel 14, keep it there. Jerry has a similar radio...”

  Faye was scowling at him.

  “I know, I know, I should have thought of this before. I’m a dumb ass, OK? Find a comfortable position for the rifle and keep the radio on. I’ll find Jerry, hopefully his radio works, too. If it does, I’ll be talking to you shortly.”

  “Sheila has a radio, too, “ Amber interjected, “I not sure if she has it with her, though...”

  Leland’s mind was racing. What other tools did they have that they hadn’t thought of using?

  “Doesn’t matter, now. Two radios is enough. I’m going back, you coming with me, Amber.”

  “You’ll never lose me again, brother,” she said. She loved having a brother.

  Leland smirked at her, unsure of what she meant. It sounded a little creepy.

  “OK, we’re outta here. See you later, Faye.”

  “Be careful, Lee. I mean it,” Faye sounded like his mother. She loved him like a son. She didn’t want him in this fight.

  “Yes Mamm.”

  Faye adjusted her position, resting the rifle on her plastic canteen. Two hundred yards was nothing. She had once popped a threat at twice that distance. She would defend her family, they could count on her.

  She called after him, “And take care of your sister.”

  #

  Chapter 30

  Sheila composed herself in the hall, wiping the remaining spittle from her face with her sleeve. This was the moment she had rehearsed a thousand times. Ti
me to kill Major Hanson.

  “This is something I have to take care of myself. Don’t open the door, no matter what you hear,” she said, waving Jerry off.

  He wanted to watch her in action, but his gut told him to back off.

  She stepped into the office and closed the door. Major Hanson was sprawled on the floor, bloodied and broken. His shattered tibia protruded through a tear in his pants. She gave the jagged bone a tap with the toe of her boot.

  Hanson’s face distorted as he howled in agony.

  She smiled, the fire of vengeance consumed her. She pulled his boots off and threw them aside. She unbuckled his trousers and jerked them from his spindly legs with a quick motion again tweaking the broken bone as she did so. She ripped his filthy underwear away and shoved them into his howling mouth.

  “You remember me?” She said, with deadly calm.

  He shook his head, negative.

  “Liar.” She swiftly initiated retribution by stomping his groin with the heel of her boot, squashing his testicles and penis like over-ripened fruit.

  She purposely removed her shirt then turned to reveal her tattoo. “Remember this?”

  Hanson, unable to speak, made an effort to convey his innocence by shaking his head violently.

  Sheila removed the rest of her clothes save for her boots, folding them neatly on the desk. She straddled Hanson, staring into his lying, terrified eyes.

  “Remember me now?”

  Hanson changed tactics. If he agreed, maybe she would let him go. Maybe the torture would end. He nodded emphatically. Big mistake. Sheila pulled her boot knife and grabbed his flaccid penis, pulling it like a rubber band to its limit. Hanson read her mind. He began sobbing, shaking his head from side to side, pleading for mercy with his flooded eyes. With a quick slice she relieved him of his manhood. She forced him to roll over and shoved the tiny piece of meat up his anus.

  “You like that? You like that mother fucker? No? I didn’t like it either, mother fucker. You are never, ever, going to rape again.”